Brothers have taken dad's words to mat
| Wednesday, Mar 03 2010 09:59 PM
Last Updated Wednesday, Mar 03 2010 11:31 PM
When Bryce and Coleman Hammond take to the mats in Rabobank Arena this weekend for the CIF State Wrestling Championships, the man in the corner will have butterflies in his stomach.
Sure, that would be true of any father, but this one has poured a lot into his sons and their wrestling careers. And they've given a lot back to him.
Twenty-four years ago, a Cal State Bakersfield wrestler named Ray Hammond beat three highly touted Division I opponents in a weekend, vaulting him toward the top of the Division I national rankings and into a brief stay in the spotlight.
He didn't stay there. A lackluster Division II national tournament saw him bounced long before he could reach the podium, and just like that, his career was over. He is mentioned just once in the CSUB wrestling media guide, as a letterwinner in 1985.
Hammond had talent -- he won a state championship at Rio Hondo Junior College -- but now says he wasted his NCAA chances because he was cutting too much weight.
"I weigh 158 now," Hammond says, patting a thin frame. "I weighed (137.5) when I wrestled. It was stupid. In retrospect, I wish I had had better focus, better discipline in certain areas."
Sometimes, second chances present themselves. Hammond just had to wait a few years for his.
"I've given a lot of attention to my boys," he says. "As long as they're hungry and they love it, I'm going to give them a lot of time."
Bryce and Coleman are state-ranked wrestlers for Bakersfield High, and they are smarter wrestlers because of what Ray went through.
"I've taught them to be students, to treat wrestling as a science," Ray says. "Be educated in what you're doing. Know what you're dealing with. There are so many elements that I think make the best wrestler possible.
"... I've examined a lot of mistakes from my past ... eliminated all the negative things and tried to turn them into positives. They're light years ahead of where I was."
It was that sort of training that helped Bryce become what he is today: No. 1 in California at 160 pounds all season until a postseason elbow injury forced him to forfeit a few matches (he's ranked No. 3 now) and fourth-place winner at 152 as a sophomore last year.
Bryce started his wrestling career at age 8, relatively late for an elite wrestler. That inexperience showed. He went winless in his first handful of tournaments.
"I wasn't very good," he says. "But then I started looking at the technical side of it and focusing on technique."
After that, Bryce's wrestling improved and results soared. He entered BHS as a varsity starter and qualified for state as a freshman, then placed fourth last year at 152 pounds. His two losses were by razor-thin margins.
"Something clicked going into freshman year," he says. "I think I finally grew into my body."
Meanwhile, Coleman started wrestling at age 6, and his body type made him stronger and more compact.
"I guess I was made to wrestle," Coleman said. "I've learned a lot of technique from Bryce."
Success was immediate. By the time he entered middle school, he was being talked about as a potential high school state champion. And he was thinking about it long before that.
"Since third grade," Coleman said. "... It's been a goal of mine for a long time to be a four-time state champ."
Only one wrestler, former Driller Darrell Vasquez, has ever done that, and he did it in lower weights that aren't littered with upperclassmen. But Coleman isn't backing from his goals. He's ranked No. 5 in the state at 145 pounds but gained steam late in the season, winning the Central Section Masters tournament last weekend and handing Foothill's Derik Rizo, previously a top-five wrestler, his first three losses of the season.
"Coleman is one of the most physically gifted people I've ever seen in my life," Bryce says. "He's been shaving since like fourth grade. Ridiculous. ... It's not even like I'm saying this because he's my brother: I think he's got a legitimate shot to win it, and I think everyone says that."
The Hammonds make wrestling a lifestyle. Their home is decorated with banners wishing Bryce and Coleman luck, and with pillows made by mom Lisa and sisters Macie, 19, and Shelby, 12, that will be given as good-luck gifts to other Drillers at state.
Most days, dinner time is settled around wrestling -- Tuesday and Thursdays are chicken days, Wednesdays are pork or fish -- and the home office often becomes a film-study room.
Both study video religiously, whether it be of themselves, their opponents or collegiate and international wrestlers. It's a training technique often overlooked in a physically demanding sport.
"There's not too many kids that put that kind of time into it," BHS coach Andy Varner said. "Most kids would rather be watching movies or playing computer games."
Bryce even carries the nickname " the Soviet" because of his love for former Soviet Union and Russian wrestlers and their exquisite technique. He says he was even upset when U.S. wrestler Brandon Slay beat Russia's Bouvaissa Saitiev for the gold medal at the 2000 Olympics.
That wouldn't have compared to Hammond's disappointment if he hadn't been able to wrestle at state. He hyperextended his elbow while warming up for the Yosemite Divisional two weeks ago and thought, for about half an hour, that his season was done.
"That was terrible," Bryce says. "To go through the whole year being ranked No. 1 and for something like that to happen then, it would have been terrible."
Instead, he wrestled his way through to the semifinals there, then defaulted to sixth place and defaulted to the consolation bracket at last week's Masters, placing seventh. Those results were the bare minimum needed for him to qualify for state, but they also allowed him ample time to rest the elbow back to health.
"It's not near as bad as we originally believed," Ray says. "If he goes into the tournament being 90 percent physically healthy but 100 percent mentally ready, I'm good with that."
And so the story could come full-circle: Ray says he never pushed his sons but has facilitated their wrestling careers with the savvy of someone who has been there before. Now he'll sit in the corner of the mats at Rabobank Arena and coach and cajole his sons. One will try to take the first step toward what could be a remarkable career; the other will look to push aside injury and last year's disappointment to join his brother on top of the podium.
If they do, the man in the corner will beam. And anything that happened 24 years ago will be far from his mind.
"It's something I've been thinking about for five or six years," Ray says. "Having them both together, on the same team. It's a little surreal."

